Operation: uhReally Cool Code Name
by ThatBeckygirl
Summary: Dean gives himself a very important mission. WARNING: slashincest


**Title:** Operation:...uh...Really Cool Code Name  
**Characters:** Sam, Dean  
**Pairing:** Sam/Dean

**Word Count:** 3,423  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Warnings:** language, incest  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own them...they totally own me.  
**Spoilers:** In My Time of Dying, Pilot and slight one for Route 666**  
**

******Summary:** Dean gives himself a _very_ important mission.

**Author's Note:** Please review! I wanna know what you think:)

Dammit, Sammy was looking at him _again_. Blatantly starting – not even bothering to try and hide it. He used to turn away quickly, blush creeping up into the head of shaggy hair. Lately though, he'd been getting bold. Dean would turn when he felt the adoring gaze, and Sam would actually meet his eyes – loving hazel vs. confused green – before turning away, nonchalantly. And, no matter how hard Dean thought about it, he couldn't figure out a turning point in this little dance they did. There was no key event that would have turned Sam from a boy with a shameful secret into a maturing schoolgirl with a crush. It was unnerving.

Sam would never be the one to initiate any sort of physicality with Dean, not in that sense. College had done the boy good, Dean would give him that much. During his years away, he'd gained a better sense of himself, as well as a better sense of the world. It showed in everything he did – the way he talked, the way he moved; it even showed in his eyes. But, there was no possible way that Sam, who supposedly desired for normal, would be the one to start a romance with his brother.

That, logically, meant Dean would have to.

There was no denying to himself, or anyone else for that matter, that Dean wanted his younger brother. As soon as Sammy had become Sam, lost the baby fat and gained the muscles, a very un-brotherly love had begun to awaken. At first, Dean was freaked-the-hell out. The desire he felt warred heavily with the need to protect, even if that meant protecting him from his family. But, he couldn't leave. A) That would leave Sam alone with Dad, which probably wouldn't turn out very well. B) He wouldn't be able to protect Sam if he wasn't there. And, last but not least, C) how could he hurt Sammy like that? In the end, it was easier to just deal with things alone.

But, when Sam hit the age of fifteen, Dean realized that the feeling was mutual. And that's when it started. Oddly though, things got less awkward. There was more fluidity to their interactions, both in their everyday lives and on the hunt. Since each man feared losing the other to a point of obsession, senses were heightened and they were more aware of what was going on. But neither brother spoke about it. It was never brought up even though they both knew exactly what was going on. There were too many taboos to deal with, not even getting into the subject of their father.

Then, Sam left and Dean was alone. But, when they were finally back together…it was like nothing had changed. Even with the subject of Jessica – the fact that Sam was going to marry her, and then her death – the dance was still going on, even if the music had changed a little. Now, their father was dead and all they had was each other. Societal views didn't matter as much anymore, not after all they had been through. So, maybe it made perfect sense that Sam wanted more.

Dean was more than willing to provide it.

Day One of Operation: Sex-Up Sammy (or whatever Dean was going to call it) didn't go so well. Dean had actually tried to set up a romantic dinner, since that always seemed to work in the movies. The girls usually ended up giving it up after a dinner in the candlelight. Seriously. And, he really was a romantic at heart…he had just never tried the whole "moonlight and candles" shtick. It wasn't the way of a hunter. Plus, he had never really been in love before. Cassie was as close as he'd come, but he was hesitant to slap the love label on it. After all, they'd met not long after Sammy had left for college. He was hurting, badly, and there she was. She was a comfort; Dean still wasn't sure how deep the feelings had gone. But, he knew, without a doubt, that he _was_ in love with his brother. He'd always known that on some level, but now it was time to fully admit it.

Anyway, dinner didn't pan out. Sam didn't even know he was planning anything, since Bobby had called them with a possible hunt in Little Rock at about three in the afternoon. As soon as Sam closed up the phone, they were packing up their stuff, loading it into the Impala, and hightailing it out of Texas. It was a little hard to explain the candles that had fallen out of his bag while they had been rushing about the room. But, Sam had seemed to buy it when he shrugged and said, "I bought them a while back, just in case we ever need to do some sort of ritual or something."

There was an awkward silence in the car all the way to Arkansas. By the time they found a cheap motel, Dean was ready to confess everything if Sam didn't call him on it soon. He knew that Sam knew that something was going on. The sigh of relief he let out as Sam swung into the parking space by their room didn't go unheard. But, he jumped out of the car, grabbed his bag from the back, and was in the shower before Sam had even processed the fact that he had moved.

As he stood in the shower, letting the hot water run over him, he tried to think of something else to do. Dinner probably wasn't the best idea, anyway, not for the first attempt at letting his brother know that they were on the same page. There was always the possibility of just jumping the guy. He could walk out of the bathroom right now, flatten Sam against the wall and kiss the breath right out of him.

And, he really needed to stop thinking about that. He could feel himself getting hard at the thought of his brother pressed against him. Sighing, he grabbed the soap and slicked his hand up to grasp his cock and pull, slowly. His head kept swimming with the images of Sammy, his Sammy. The beautiful hazel eyes…the hair that would feel so good through his fingers…the strong chest…muscled thighs…

Just like that, he was coming with a deep moan, head thrown back in complete ecstasy, cum jetting over his hand and onto the shower wall. As he leaned back against the tiles, panting, he tried to recollect his thoughts. He wasn't sure he could stand it much longer, not having Sam. He knew they were both ready now and he wanted it so badly, his chest hurt with fear at even the slightest chance that it might not happen.

He pushed himself off the wall with a groan, thankful that the water had washed away all traces of his pleasure. He toweled off quickly, throwing on the boxer shorts that he'd brought into the tiny bathroom with him. Sam was sleeping peacefully when he walked out and crawled into the other bed. As he felt sleep come over him, he comforted himself with the fact that soon, they would only need one bed.

Day Two of Operation: Confess to Sammy (Dean didn't like that name. Dammit, why couldn't he think of a cool name?) wasn't a success either. He'd decided to just start simple. If he brought the topic up, that could be considered making a move. It would at least make the situation real, if one of them confessed to the other. He just had to find the right opportunity.

Okay, so maybe trying to have a serious conversation in a graveyard was a bad idea. The brothers were sitting back against a monument on the outskirts of Little Rock with salt rock-filled shotguns across their laps, waiting for a possible ghost to appear. There had been sightings, but no two witnesses had described the same thing, so they had no idea what they were supposed to do. Since there was nothing else to occupy their time and Silence was just unbearable, Dean decided to test the waters.

"Sammy… Can I…uh…ask you something?" he asked tentatively. He looked over in the dark, trying to see the expression on Sam's face. The boy could get testy in the middle of a hunt and Dean was sure that he didn't want to be sporting a black eye for the week. All he could see was the younger man's profile. But his jaw was working, and there was a strange glint in his eyes, although that could have just been the adrenaline mixing in with the exhaustion.

"Sure," came the solid reply.

"If you could have anything, or anyone, in the whole world, what – or who – would you pick?" Yeah, that was safe question. It would give Dean a better idea of what mood he was dealing with. If Sam was the least bit irritated about anything at all, there was no way he'd answer that question without a stern _Dean_.

Just as Sam opened his mouth to answer, an ungodly scream filled the air. Both brothers shot up with guns at the ready. Dean was suddenly staring at an apparition of his brother, obviously dead or dying, throat slashed. He was so shocked that he nearly dropped his gun. He was saved from that mistake by Sam's exhalation of "Oh my God" next to him. At least he could be sure that Sammy was still alive.

"Dean, it's him! What do we do?! We're not ready for this!" Sam was panicking, as he rightly should be, considering what was right in front of them.

"Sam, what the hell are you talking about? And, do you realize that we're staring at you, man?" Dean retorted, the fear he felt edging into his voice. Now was not the time to panic!

What Sam said next made his blood run cold, because it meant that they were in deeper shit than he had originally thought. "What are you talking about? It's the _demon_, Dean! _The_ demon! We don't know – oh, shit – Dean…it's coming right towards you! No! You sonofabitch! You can't have him!" Sam was really losing it now. He was screaming at the…_thing_, whatever it was, and whatever he was seeing was making him forget all of his training.

Dean finally cleared his head enough to fire his gun at the bleeding Sam, as the real Sam dropped to the ground. The apparition dissipated and he dropped down next to his brother, gathering up the young man in his arms. He pulled back enough to check for signs of injury or a vision or anything else that could possibly make Sam fall to his knees. Seeing nothing, he clutched his brother to his chest, so the younger man could hear his heartbeat – something that had always calmed Sammy as a kid after a nightmare when he would crawl into his brother's bed or after a hunt when one of them had gotten hurt. He ran his hands up and down the broad back, smoothing through the shaggy hair.

"Dean…it wanted to take you, just like it took Jess and Mom," he heard Sam whisper against his chest.

"It's okay; he didn't get me, bro. I'm right here. I'm safe, you're safe," he whispered back, trying to calm his own heart.

Trying to keep his mind away from the sight of Sam with blood draining out of his body, he thought through all of the creatures that could show someone their worst fear, which was obviously what just happened. But, this thing wasn't a creature; it was opaque, like a spirit. And it had somehow shown them each their fear at the same time.

Dean stood up, pulling his brother with him. They gathered themselves and their gear into the car and headed back to the motel, neither one speaking. It wasn't until they were both tucked into their beds that Dean could breathe easy. They were together; the salt lines were laid; the protection symbols were in place. They'd be okay until tomorrow.

Even after the night's traumatizing events, his mind couldn't help but wander back to the plan he'd had. Obviously, they didn't have very much time for a heart-to-heart right now. But, he had to do this soon. He was getting desperate and beginning to wonder if maybe he shouldn't just stop. Sure, he'd only tried twice – and even those were very pathetic attempts. But, shouldn't this have been easier? This was his brother, for Christ's sake. Surely he knew how to seduce his own brother. He'd known him all his life and they'd shared everything as teenagers. He had a basic understanding of what his brother was into, both in a relationship and in sex. But there were no chances to put any of that knowledge to good use.

As he once again felt the beginnings of sleep, he told himself that he had to keep trying; that it wasn't a big deal that he hadn't succeeded, not yet. And, suddenly there it was, a great idea. But, he would have to think about it more in the morning because the Sandman suddenly came.

Day Three was Operation: Make Sammy Make the First Move. Dean liked the name of this operation. And he was sure it would work, due to his genius. All he had to do was get Sam worked up enough that he'd jump his brother's bones. And he had a plan. Oh boy, did he have a plan.

But, first, they had to work out the hunt. This, actually, wasn't very hard to do. The next morning, Dean remembered reading a story a few months prior about a serial killer that had been sitting on Death Row and was finally killed. The killer had used his victims' worst fears to torture and terrorize them before finally ending their life. The guy put a lot of research into it, and seemed to be pretty effective if the police reports were any indication. In death, because he was just a cruel bastard, his spirit still walked the earth – even if it was limited to the area surrounding the cemetery in which he was buried. Whenever someone would come near the cemetery, day or night, he would tap into their brains somehow and slaughter them, first showing them what they dreaded the most.

So, it was a typical salt-and-burning. They did it that night; Sam dug up the body while Dean stood guard with the rock salt. The spirit, for whatever reason, didn't appear while the whole thing was going on, for which Dean was more than grateful. He needed Sam in a good mood.

Once they were back at the motel, in their separate beds, Dean finally got to put a plan into action. He reached underneath the waistband of his boxers and began to slowly stroke himself to hardness. He knew Sam was still awake, and that was the whole idea. He didn't bother trying to stifle the hitch in his breathing, or the tiny moans and whimpers that were coming out of his mouth. He knew he wasn't going to last very long, not with Sam close enough to touch. But, that didn't matter. The goal was to make Sam react.

He began to jack himself off harder and faster. He was worked up enough just from the fact that _Sam_ was _listening_ that he couldn't have controlled himself if he'd wanted to. He was moaning completely unchecked now, not even bothering to tone it down for any occupants that might or might not be in the next room. His head was nearly thrashing on the pillow as he got dangerously close to the edge. With the arching of his back, he finally came hard, spilling onto his hand and stomach; he couldn't be entirely sure that he didn't moan Sam's name.

Breathing heavily, he laid there waiting for some reaction from the other side of the room. After a few minutes, he began to think that maybe Sam was asleep after all. He reached for the towel that he'd put underneath his pillow and cleaned himself, still straining to hear sounds coming from his brother. Sam couldn't have been sleeping, not with all the noise he was making. There was no way. He could have woken the dead, and of course the dead in question would be mighty turned on.

Sighing, he was chalking this one up to another failed attempt when Sam suddenly got out of bed and locked himself in the bathroom. Dean's last coherent thought before the post-orgasm haze took over was _Fuck_.

Day Four. Operation: Kiss Sammy. (Dean was tired of thinking of fun or clever names.) This was the last straw. Dean told himself that if he couldn't even lean over and fucking _kiss_ his brother, then he was done. It obviously wasn't meant to happen since so much was interfering, whether it be pissed off dead serial killers or his own stupidity and incompetence.

The morning after they got rid of Murderer # 3890385, they packed up their stuff and cleared the motel room. Their next stop was in Northern Wisconsin, where there was a possible werewolf problem. There was tension hanging between the brothers that you could cut with a knife, and Dean had no idea what to do about it. He wasn't sure if Sam was pissed off or just being his emo self.

Breakfast was awkward – with Dean mentally kicking his own ass the entire time – but not as bad as it could have been. Conversation was pleasant enough, and there was still a brotherly camaraderie, even if it was slightly subdued. Sam did keep giving him funny looks though, which Dean was hard pressed to interpret. There was some emotion reflected in his eyes that wasn't there before and damn if he knew what it was. He kept wanting to ask if they were okay, or apologize, or _something_. He couldn't handle not having a good grasp on the situation.

It wasn't until they were back in the car, ready to drive north, that Dean finally got up the nerve to do what he had to do. He had cracked some joke, and Sam had given him that blinding smile, and Dean just _knew_. Sam cocked his head to the side and gave Dean a questioning look. Apparently his thoughts were showing on his face. But, he wasn't paying attention. He focused on his brother's lips and moved in.

The initial contact was soft, barely there. Dean's lips ghosted over those of his brother's in a hesitant, almost questioning manner. But, in that tiny bit of contact, there was a definite spark. One of those fireworks-inducing moments where you know that you're right where you belong. It was obvious that Sam felt it too for when Dean leaned back and looked into those hazel eyes, he recognized the look there as the one mirrored in his own green ones. Want. Trust. Love.

Sam smiled brightly at his older brother. "Took you long enough," he chided quietly.

Dean returned the smile in full force.

He placed his lips on top of Sam's once again, this time harder. After a few unsure seconds, Sam moaned and opened his mouth. Dean took the opportunity to slip his tongue, albeit it hesitantly, into the warm cavern of his brother's mouth. Sam's tongue met his and he was flooded with the sense and taste of _Sammy_. They each slid around each other, neither one trying to dominate, both just tasting the other and languishing in what was happening.

After a few minutes, Dean pulled back to look at Sam again. He was more than relieved when he saw Sam smile at him, lazily, like he was the most content person in the world. He looked deep into his brother's eyes and said, "I'm sorry it took me so long, Sammy. I didn't know what to do…or if you would really be okay with this."

Sam's eyes sought out his and he dreamily replied, "This is all I've ever wanted."

Placing a quick peck to his Sammy's lips, Dean leaned back into the driver's seat and pulled out of the diner's parking lot, headed towards Nebraska, some werewolves, and a future filled with Sammy.

Mission Accomplished.


End file.
